


If We Could

by Cognitioname



Category: Hamilton - Fandom, Hamilton- Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Dancing, Existential Crisis, F/F, Feminism, Sisters to Lovers, Slow Burn, Will be added as story progresses, sister relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 01:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15674961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cognitioname/pseuds/Cognitioname
Summary: “If Angelica had been a boy, perhaps she would have gone into law. She had the necessary sharp, scathing wit, and the remarkable intellectual capacity, after all.Unfortunately, being female, her daily clientele were much more likely to be seeking legal matrimony than legal advice.”A story in which Angelica realises where her attractions truly lie.





	1. A ball is attended

If Angelica had been a boy, perhaps she would have gone into law. She had the necessary sharp, scathing wit, and the remarkable intellectual capacity, after all. (Of course, she wouldn’t have needed to work for a living- but hey, you have to fill the day somehow). 

Unfortunately, being female, her daily clientele were much more likely to be seeking legal matrimony than legal advice.

“Ahem.” She turned, greeted by the sight of what was, no doubt, a potential suitor. He gave his name. “Would you give me the pleasure of your company?”

“Gladly,” she replied, eyes briefly scanning the room for Eliza, before fixating upon her new partner. They began to step to the rhythm of the band, the pace quickening- him seemingly intent upon his footwork, her paying little heed to hers.

“Where’s your family from?” she enquired, a light smile gracing her features. It was a customary introduction. He would likely know of the Schuylers already.

“Here, in New York. My father comes from a long line of doctors, with an apothecary not far from here-“ She blocked out the rest of the tirade, nodding as and when appropriate. Her mind wasn’t on his ramblings, but on Eliza. She felt a certain level of unease at not knowing her whereabouts- irrational, she knew- but a twinge of anxiety all the same. She was probably doing exactly the same as Angelica, lost somewhere in the midst of whirling dresses and formalities. 

“I’m sorry?” she replied, suddenly aware that her pursuer had stopped speaking.

“I said, I apologise for my lack of manners. I’ve been most impolite. You’re Angelica Schuyler, and- dare I say- one of the most influential, charismatic, and beautiful women in New York City.” 

“So you’ve studied me, then.”

“From afar.” He was being pleasant enough, but now the waltz was over, and she could finally have the respite she’d been craving. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” she requested, already disengaging from his hands. From the side of the ballroom, she was offered a far better vantage point, from which she’d be more likely to spot her sister. And suddenly, she did- in the arms of a man surely three times her age, being swayed reluctantly on her feet. Sensing Eliza’s discomfort, her sister strode to her side.

“Eliza! There’s someone you simply must meet!” she cried, pulling her out of the man’s sight, off the dance floor, through a corridor (Eliza wondered if this was an intrusion upon their hosts’ property) and into a secluded lounge. 

“Eliza, you know you can always tell them you have another engagement to keep. There’s someone you’d like to bid farewell to, or someone you simply cannot keep waiting any longer-“

“I know, Angie. It wasn’t too bad, though. He sort of swept me off my feet and then kept me for the next five dances- I knew you’d come to find me eventually, so my situation was hardly dire.”

Angelica took her sister into a wordless embrace, mildly frustrated at her sister’s helplessness, but also somewhat pleased that Eliza trusted her to come to her rescue. Sometimes, she wondered if Eliza would have had to become more confident without having a protective older sister to support her, but she wouldn’t change her role for the world.

“I’ve not been enjoying this ball too much either. I made contact with a few of our father’s business friends, so I’d say that our duties here are complete. Shall we find Peggy and leave?” she proposed. Eliza nodded, only too glad.

-

Peggy had been found with not one but two male companions, who were hanging on to her every word as she recounted a particularly amusing anecdote. From the frequency of her laughter, Angelica guessed that she had been partaking in one of the many wines available. It took a little longer to disengage her than it had Eliza, but a few minutes later, the three sisters were in a cart, taking them back to the Schuyler estate. Its owner had been a little surprised to find the three women travelling alone, but didn’t comment on the matter.

Peggy sat in the middle of the booth, animatedly discussing her evening, with Angelica. Eliza remained silent, opting instead to gaze through the window. It was dark outside.

\- 

Angelica would have said she kept no secrets from her sisters. Their bond was unbreakable; they knew each other as they knew themselves. There was one thing that she had never told them, however. 

Of all the men that she’d flirted with and courted and shown the barest reciprocity of interest in, she had never once cared for their company beyond as a conversational partner. She hadn’t felt giddy in the way that Peggy described so vividly, desired physical closeness with them. She certainly couldn’t see herself married to one. It wasn’t that the men she encountered were dull...they simply didn’t interest her, not like that.

If that had been the crux of the matter, everything in Angelica’s life would have been just fine. She would have married for status, not love, and cast her lack of desires aside- even, privately, prided being above romantic attachment. 

But that was not the crux of the issue. For as much as Angelica didn’t wish to kiss and caress a man- she would be lying, shamefully lying, if she said she’d ruled out this possibility with a woman.


	2. A Ship Without An Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Schuyler sisters go into New York City, watch a debate, read books around the fire, and have existential philosophical crises.

Two days after the ball, Angelica suggested that they take a short trip into town, shrewdly pointing out that there was no certainty of how much longer they’d be able to do so for. The newspapers had become increasingly apprehensive about the prospect of war in recent weeks. 

“Whilst we’re there, we must see if the tailor has started on my dress, you know, the one he took measurements for last week- oh, and Eliza? Didn’t you want some herbs to help you sleep? If one of the servants hasn’t already, we could collect some of those from an apothecary, and I hear a new bakery has been opened, perhaps we could visit it for lunch. Angie, what’s wrong? Don’t you have anywhere you want to go?” Peggy stopped her chattering and looked at her eldest sister in concern. 

“That sounds wonderful, Peggy. I was thinking we could stop in The Common awhile, take in the ambience. Perhaps we’ll see somebody familiar.”

Angelica’s hope was that Eliza would be rejuvenated by some fresh air and a change of scenery. It was possible she was missing their father- he’d been away for a week, after all- and probable that she was still a little shaken by the events of a few nights prior.

She took her sister aside. “Eliza, how do you feel about this? Anything we need to add?”

“I’m just-“ The middle child shook her head, as if it would shake her thoughts into place. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to be out at the moment. There’s a lot of-“ she gestured vaguely- “unrest. I would hate to get caught up in anything again.”

“Oh, but that’s the fun of the city!” exclaimed Peggy. Angelica smiled, although she didn’t feel like it. “If it makes you feel better, Eliza, we’ll be home in the early afternoon.”

-

And so it was that the trio found themselves watching a particularly entertaining, if a tad crude, debate, several hours later. 

“Chaos and bloodshed are not a solution!” cried out the initiator. Eliza found herself nodding along, happy to see what counter there could be for that. Peggy was more focused upon the, in her opinion, rather dashing opponent that the monarchist was facing. Angelica was enraptured, preferring to anticipate the arguments each would bring up next. (She could undermine both of them with ease, she felt confident. One, although his wit was strong, and his responses quick, was making a lot of jibes ad hominem. She would have preferred to have heard more about his intriguing take on the popular revolutionary ideology than the other debater’s personal faults. Said opponent seemed to be repeating the same things with slight changes- variations on a theme, she felt).

The crowds were clearly in favour of the younger man, and their jeers, cries, and comments seemed to be spurring him on. He fought as if duelling by sword, all quick jabs and defensive manoeuvres...seeking to inflict the utmost harm upon his opponent, wielding his words like a blade.

-

It was late and they were back at the house, each reading a book around the hearth. Darkness had come hours beforehand, but a pleasant haze had settled over the drawing room. 

Peggy yawned. “I’m going to retire. Are either of you going to join me? It’d be best for your health,” she commented, arching an eyebrow at Angelica (who had been known to read all through the night on multiple occasions, only leaving her book when somebody notified her it was time for breakfast, and even then, reluctantly).

“I will- when this candle’s burnt out,” Eliza replied. Knowing better than to argue, Peggy tiptoed to the door. It closed behind her with a mildly ominous creak. Silence fell once again.

“What writing is it that’s captured your attention so, then?” Angelica enquired. There were only a few pages left to go in her philosophy book, and she would be in need of new material the following day. Perhaps Eliza’s tome would be of interest.

“It’s a history. It’s funny, because I’ve read about the same events in another book, but they’re depicted so differently here. I find it fascinating how different authors let their own personal biases cloud the truth of time. In this, although I’m sure that was not the intention, I’ve ended up finding out more about the writer than the people that he’s writing about.” 

“So, I suppose the question is: to be an actor, or to be a playwright?”

Eliza mulled over the question for several seconds, before giving her response. “An actor is going the better known of the two, but he is at the mercy of the playwright’s whims: so the question is, to take fame without power, or power without fame? And that, to me, is barely a question.”

“Well thought.” Angelica sighed. “It is a shame that we can be neither the actor nor the playwright, but merely the scenery.”

“Better the scenery than the antagonist,” Eliza placated, before Angelica could become too nihilistic, but this didn’t calm her sister at all.

“No! Any meaning, however corrupt or perverse, is better than no meaning at all. I would sooner be a Hades than a Hestia.”

Eliza was shocked by her sister’s outburst, and uncertain of how to respond. Should she try and reassure her sister, or simply rage at the world’s follies alongside her?

She settled for closing the space between them, and holding Angelica close. A few minutes passed, and then Angelica spoke, in a quieter voice than before.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I lashed out like that.”

“I don’t mind it, truly.”

“I mean what I said, though. Sometimes, everything feels futile. What is the point of- of, well, anything really?”

“I believe we should trust in God, and the answer will come to us of its own accord.”

“God.” Angelica cut off a scoff. “Would you consider me a heretic beyond moral redemption, if I were to say that sometimes I question just quite how closely he’s watching over us?”

“He is with us all the time,” repeated Eliza, but her voice wavered a little. Although she would support her sister through anything, it did scare her a little when she became upset. She felt as though she’d lost her anchor. 

And without an anchor, a ship has no control over its destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes:
> 
> The last chapter was short, and I’m sorry. 1000 words are very different depending on whether you’re reading them or writing them, and I never realised that before.
> 
> I considered not continuing this. But then I saw the singular kudos I’d been given, and that motivated me. Thank you :)
> 
> I got a bit carried away on tangents here. Was thinking of who lives, who dies, who tells your story with the actor/playwright stuff. 
> 
> I see parallels between Angelica/Eliza and Hamilton/Burr at parts.
> 
> Angelica, does it matter if you’re a Hades or a Hestia? I mean, both are pretty hot. 
> 
> I know it’s not funny if it takes a footnote to explain it, but Hades is god of the underworld (hell is firey) and Hestia is goddess of the hearth (fire!) (also domesticity, family, hence Angelica’s aversion). I thought maybe it would be a nice reference for PJ fans, since fandoms tend to overlap.
> 
> I think my ship metaphor at the end is punny.
> 
> I am surprisingly plagued with self-doubt about writing this. Comments/kudos would be lovely. Constructive criticism definitely appreciated.


	3. Charisma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip Schuyler returns & Angelica teaches Eliza some things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 kudos! This made me incredibly happy, as did receiving two comments :) I was so excited, I ended up conducting a scientific experiment about whether you can smile and scream at the same time (you can). Please, keep the feedback coming! And it’s not just about positivity: I would also love to know how I can improve. If there’s something you don’t like, please tell me. I’ll be more grateful than offended. Have a great day!

Philip Schuyler returned to his estate at the weekend, much to his daughters’ jubilation. With his arrival, he brought news of a ball that one of his good acquaintances would be hosting- and of course it would be paramount that Peggy, Angelica, and Eliza attend. 

Angelica was aware that she (and perhaps Eliza) ought to marry within the next year or so. Although she had come close on a few occasions, she was now 24, and although none of the sisters had lost their youthful looks- well, the longer a woman of their status remains unmarried, the more likely rumours are to spread. With such a dearth of suitors, and an understandable incentive to marry- blisdful socioeconomic security, so valuable in these tumultuous times- there would appear little reason to procrastinate the inevitable.

Peggy did not share these concerns. She was more than content with the fact that Mr Mulligan had finished altering her new dress in time for the dance. Angelica experienced a certain childhood nostalgia at her youngest sister’s carefree demeanour (for as the eldest, her days of innocence had been numbered).

Over the past few weeks, had been an influx of soldiers to the city: some, immigrants from Europe and even further afield; some arriving from the surrounding states. This development was certain to add interest to upcoming social engagements, Angelica mused.  
-

Eliza knew she was attractive, and didn’t want for intelligence. But she was no narcissist. She didn’t get as much attention as Angelica did because she wasn’t as extroverted. To tell truth, she lacked the confidence to approach total strangers.

“How do you do it, Angelica?” she asked over a pleasant, al fresco afternoon tea. 

“Do what?”

“Charm everybody. You know, father’s friends, men at dances, all the other women...”

Angelica tossed her head back and laughed. “I read it in a book.”

“Really?”

“Well, yes, and no. There was also a lot of careful surveillance going on. I watched other people, and let them figure out what worked and didn’t work.”

“I see.” A beat of silence. “Could you maybe show me?”

Taken aback, but not deterred, Angelica said “Okay, I’m going to imagine I’ve just met you at a ball. Maybe I recognise you from somewhere, but we’ve never spoken before.”

“Firstly, I approach you and ask for the pleasure of your company. ‘Would you care to join me for a dance?’ should suffice, or if in female company, ‘so, what do you make of...’- you understand, yes?”

Eliza nodded. This, she could understand, even if it was easier said than done.

“Good. Now, whilst we’re occupied together-“ and at this, Angelica spun her sister out of her seat, and drew her into a gentle waltz, Eliza laughing at these antics- “I’ll ask your name, perhaps where you come from- even if I’m already aware of these things. Oh, and I’ll make sure to look you in the eye most of the time, although not constantly. I’ll make the conversation more about yourself than myself. Do you follow? Well, you are following this dance very well, if I may say so, m’lady.” She lowered her voice slightly and twirled Eliza under her arm, prompting a fresh bout of giggles.

“Once formalities have been dealt with, if you’ve captured my interest, I might take you to a more secluded spot to discuss matters further.” At this, Angelica pulled Eliza across the lawn. The duo ran back to the tables, consumed with laughter.

“We’ll talk a little more, and probably exchange addresses for correspondence. And then, when no one is around- well, then, one can go in for the kill, so to speak,” Angelica breathed. She put her hands on Eliza’s cheeks, whose breath suddenly hitched. Surely she wasn’t about to...? But then Angelica really did lean in, and as Eliza closed her eyes, her sister stopped an inch from her face, and she opened them again.

“And, well, that’s really the essentials of courtship.” Angelica concluded. They were still holding each other in a somewhat compromising position, and neither was actively making a move to leave the embrace, which meant they ended up standing like that for a considerable amount of time. Or was it no time at all?

“Angie! Eliza!” At hearing Peggy come crashing round the corner, the two sprung apart, looking as if they’d just been having a lovely conversation in the shade of the tree, thank you very much. (God, Angelica tried to control the crashing waves of yearning and regret that threatened to overwhelm her). “News has broken- a battalion of ships and soldiers has arrived in the harbour! War is upon our very doorstep!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! It means a lot to me. :)

**Author's Note:**

> There is so little F/F content in this fandom. And when I decided to try and help sort this out, I realised that there are literally four characterised females in Hamilton- Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, and Maria- two of which barely count, having just one song each. So honestly, the incestuous aspect of this is secondary to everything else- I just decided to write about the two most developed female characters there are.
> 
> Also, btw, this is the first fanfic I’ve written.


End file.
